Category Archives: Grief

Can’t you see my happy face?

Can’t you see my happy face?
I’m smiling, can’t you see?
These are tears of joy, you know,
Your blessings gladden me.

Can’t you see my happy face?
It’s the best news the world,
I can’t wait to meet your little one,
Whether boy or whether girl.

(Can’t you see my empty space?
The hole inside my heart?
I may feel glad at what you have,
But I’m also torn apart…)

Can’t you see my happy face?
I’m ecstatic, and it shows,
I’m happy that you’re happy,
And that’s the only truth you’ll know.

Porcelain Dolls

Dedicated to my beautiful cousin Erica; gone but never forgotten. Thank you for the smiles. Sweet dreams, Angel.

Porcelain dolls,
Side by side,
We are grey,
We are cracked,
We are broken,
Limbs shattered
yet entwined,
Bodies huddled,
Shuddering,
Swaying to a rhythm of
despair,
Please hold my hand
for it is crumbling,
Someone hug me
for I am breaking,
Hold me up
before I fall,
My disjointed
knees are weak
and tired,
I need shoulders
for my heavy head,
We are joined by
one prevailing sadness,
Held in the stasis
of our grief,
(But still we
eke out a smile
at a joyful memory,
We slip a laugh
between the tears…)
One doll is gone,
One doll ascended,
The remaining dolls
are now fragmented,
Left
picking up the
dusty remnants,
Tiny bits of porcelain,
But we have each other,
We are together,
And many pieces
can be
one.

Asleep

I looked at him,
Into the emerald of his eye,
And he did not see me,
My fingers passed right through
the rosy blush upon his cheek
and he did not feel me,
I said that thing he always loved
and the words; they just evaporated
and he did not hear me,
And the saccharine scent of my perfume
that reminded him of butterflies
just fell into the void
and he did not smell me,
And he didn’t press upon
the worry of my brow
with the softness of his lips;
He did not taste me,

And then I knew
that I was asleep,

And then I cried
no tears.

Diminuendo

I close my eyes
and I can hear
the passage
of my life,
Each ticking of the
metronome;
A second closer
to the end of time,
Diminuendo,
Each beating of my
waning heart;
A minim closer
to the end of mine,
Lentando,
But it’s OK,
As the moments
wash away
into the ultra white
that marks
the failing of my sight,
As I edge closer
to the come what may,
to the end of stave,
to the moment
darkness
meets my day,
I become the pause,
I am the peace,
I am the silence that
this moment reaps,
I am the final
breath
of deep relief,
I am the saline tear
that dances
down your cheek,
The farewell
that through this
chasm creeps,
I am the gone,
The tacet, the rest,
I am the nothing left,
I am the screaming silence
that is death,
And it’s OK.
Fine.

Third of Three

I never met you,
But I miss you,
You don’t exist,
But I kiss you
in my dreams,
I set aside a portion of my heart,
Swaddled it in endless love,
And engraved it with your name,
But you never came to be,
And so I miss you.
Destined now to grieve eternally,
For all the times that we’ll not see,
For the smell of you
nuzzled next to me,
Reciprocated love,
Unconditionally,
You would have been my legacy,
The third of three,
The third best thing
I’ve ever achieved,
A beautiful embodiment of possibility,
But you, my love, weren’t meant to be.
And you, my love, will never be.
And you, my love, will never see
just how much
I miss you.

Foreverie

Once upon the daylight blue,
A longing was drawn in vivid hues,
And sat lucid in her reverie,
For times that she and he once knew.

Painted on her memory’s eye,
Thoughts flittered like a butterfly,
They tickled at the brink of truth,
And swaddled her mind in a dulcet lie.

He no longer walks the realm of we,
He’s not bound by mortal foolery,
But he’s exalted in her ceaseless dream,
Where they dance for all eternity.

This poem was written for NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge was to write a Persian ruba’i, which is stanza with the rhyming pattern AABA. A collection of ruba’i is called a rubaiyat and that is what I’ve produced today. Oh, and the title is a combination of the words forever and reverie!

Dawn Requiem

The night has taken me now
and it is morning.
A day of mourning.
Your tears as dew drops
on the blades of grass at dawn,
Your sighs the gentle wind
that dances with the trees,
My funeral song resounding
as the birds begin to sing.
Remember me each day
and I have not died
but am reborn in every dawn,
And I shall live forever
in the morning.

Angel at the Gates

Heaven opened it’s gates and God called
for our angel to find her way home,
A chorus rang out through our world,
And she passed, finding peace never known.

Then our angel, she stopped at the gates,
She paused there with one step to go,
She rested her hand on her heart
and looked back at our world here below.

Two tears fell and crept down her face,
Two tears purer than ever she’d cried:
One of joy at the beauty ahead,
One of sorrow for those left behind.

As the gates swung and beckoned her in,
She made a promise to all those she had loved
and to all those who’d loved her in life:
She’d eternally watch over from above.

So although our pain at her passing is great,
Though, in body, she’s no longer here,
We find comfort in the thought that, in spirit,
Our angel will always be near.